


Safety

by UnaghKunn



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: F/M, Fingering, Fluff, Hair Kink, Hurt/Comfort, Slightly PWPish, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:39:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnaghKunn/pseuds/UnaghKunn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Emmy has an accident with her vespa, she finds safety in the Professor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safety

“Are you feeling any better, my dear?”

Emmy nodded, and slid the towel turban from her head, letting loose the still damp tresses underneath, using the edges of the towel to dry her ears.

After a minor accident with the vespa involving skidding off the road and into a ditch after swerving to avoid a fox, Emmy had ended up covered in mud and somewhat bruised. Her first call had been to the Professor, having been on her way with various pottery samples. Professor Layton being a consummate gentleman, he had dashed off to help her without a second thought, assisting with freeing the vespa from the mud, and driving her home in the car.

“It’s good to get all that muck off,” Emmy admitted, rubbing her other ear dry, having taken a shower. As she hadn’t a change of clothing, Layton had left one of his shirts out for her, which she was now wearing. It only came to midway down her thighs, revealing a few bruises and scrapes.

Layton grimaced at this. Emmy had been lucky to come out of the accident unscathed, but nonetheless…

“Are you absolutely sure you’re alright?” He asked.

“Nothing broken, Professor. Just a bit bumped and shaken,” Emmy reassured him as she set the towel down, folded, on the table. She knelt on the floor to fetch something from her bag, which was drying by the fireside, caked in mud. Layton noted as the shirt hitched up that Emmy had borrowed a pair of boxer shorts. It was, he supposed, a relief that they were elasticated and would therefore fit.

Emmy straightened up, pulling out her hairbrush, proceeding to tug it through her hair – and wincing as she tried to move her arm. Layton frowned and, catching his expression, Emmy laughed softly.

“Really, I’m alright,” she insisted. “Probably just pulled something.”

Layton shook his head. She could be so… difficult, about letting him help her sometimes.

“At the very least,” Layton said, moving in to stand behind her, resting a hand over Emmy’s where she was holding the brush, “allow me to give you a hand there.”

Emmy sighed, but smiled, acquiescing. She tugged the brush down through her hair to release it, and then slipped it back to Layton’s waiting hand. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“For you, my dear – anything,” Layton rumbled. “Come, sit down.”

It would be easier to brush Emmy’s hair with her seated, he supposed, guiding her to the couch. As Emmy sat down, Layton was sure he heard her groaning softly, quietly – apparently, she was in more pain than she let on. Knowing, however, that he would simply be subject to further protests that she was “fine”, he let it go, setting himself down behind her.

Silence fell in the room, the only sound that of the fireplace crackling, and Layton running Emmy’s brush through her hair, carefully avoiding tugs and smoothing it out. Emmy’s posture seemed to relax as he continued to brush her hair, the movements and touch soothing away the remnants of the adrenaline from the accident.

At last, Emmy spoke up.

“It’s been a while since anyone last did this for me.”

Layton nodded. “Does it… help, at all?” He asked, continuing to move the brush through her hair.

“Mm,” Emmy murmured. “It’s nice, that feel of hands in your hair… always found it kind of calming.”

“I’m glad to know that…” Layton replied gently. Looking thoughtful, he added, “do you also like having your scalp touched?”

Emmy’s eyes lit up, and she grinned. “Oh, yes please!”

Layton rumbled a soft laugh, setting the hair brush aside, and running his fingers up through her hair and along the back of her head, cradling her skull as Emmy leaned into his touch. Layton smiled, rubbing gentle circles in her scalp with his fingers and thumbs, moving around to massage her head. Emmy murmured softly in appreciation as she slowly laid back, resting her head on the Professor’s lap. He smiled down at her, and rested his free hand on her stomach. Emmy twined her fingers with his.

“I’m... glad that you are still here, Emmy,” Layton fumbled his words, suddenly looking away from her eyes. “When you called, I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” Emmy breathed, her cheeks colouring.

Layton shook his head. “It wasn’t an apology I was seeking, Emmy. I…” He broke off, not sure how continue. “I like you an awful lot, do you know that?”

“Oh, Professor,” Emmy whispered, reaching up to lightly stroke his cheek (she ended up knocking his hat off instead – it rolled onto the floor). “I like you too.”

Layton nodded. “I… sincerely don’t know what I would do without you. You’ve been such a help, and… you’re my friend, as well.” More than friends, really, he thought – but sometimes, it was hard to put those feelings into words. Emmy seemed to understand however, and gently squeezed the hand that was resting on her belly.

“Well, I’m here,” Emmy said gently. “I’m here, and I’m alright, and everything’s fine.” She paused, running her uplifted hand along his cheek. “And I love you.”

Layton chuckled softly and leaned into her palm, nuzzling gently. “I love you too, Emmy.” He gently kissed her palm, extracting his other hand from her hair, and holding her palm in place for a few seconds. Emmy smiled, and then led his hand back down to her hair.

“If you don’t mind, could you maybe…?”

Layton laughed, but nodded. “Of course,” he replied, returning to massaging her skull and running hands through her hair. “Does that feel alright?”

“It feels wonderful,” Emmy said, nodding.

“Is there anywhere else you like to be… touched?” Layton asked as he continued to rub circles in her scalp.

Emmy looked thoughtful for a second, and then shifted his free hand, gently pressing it between her legs. Layton furrowed his brows, but… gently shifted his thumb, running it around her clothed clitoris. Without thinking about it, Emmy shifted, her pelvis bucking into the movement on instinct.

Something resembling a lopsided grin graced Layton’s face, his cheeks colouring, as he looked slightly embarrassed.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Emmy?” Layton asked, lightly teasing at her mound with his thumb, avoiding her clit as if on purpose. Emmy moaned and tried to move into his touches.

“Professor, please!”

“In that case,” Layton smiled mischievously, “who am I to refuse?”

Before Emmy could respond, the Professor’s hand was slipping down past the elastic and fabric of the borrowed boxer shorts, lightly massaging the area around her clit. Slow, gentle pressure soothed what remained of the tension in Emmy’s muscles as Layton circled around her most sensitive parts.

He lightly brushed his thumb against her clitoris, her natural wetness making his movements easier. One finger slid down her passage, filling her, spreading her, before another joined it. Emmy rolled slightly into Layton’s palm, which provided stimulation against her apex while his fingers slowly explored her depths.

Layton’s fingers curled inside of her, reaching for something… and then Emmy saw stars, thrusting up at his hand and into his touch, bucking and moving against him as a flood of desire flushed through her system. Layton continued to massage her passageway as she spasmed around his fingers, until at last, she relaxed into the couch, and beamed up at the Professor.

“Feeling better?” He asked with a small smile.

Still smiling brightly, Emmy nodded. Her limbs felt like jelly, which seemed to make the various aches and pains vanish, and sleepiness began to overtake her, the last of the adrenaline finally seeming to have gone. The Professor’s hand was still in her hair, lightly brushing the strands, as she closed her eyes, finally falling asleep in the safety of Layton’s touch.

**END**


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